


Mend It

by ByeByeLove



Category: British Actor RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Marriage, Shapeshifting, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByeByeLove/pseuds/ByeByeLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She shot him a look of pity. “You mustn’t let the trickster rule your life, Thomas.”</p><p>Tom shrugged indifferently when Pepper spotted them and began to walk over and Tom could already tell she was the obvious host of the party despite it being Thor’s wedding or Tony’s house. “Oh trust me, my dear goddess, I never let him, he just did.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mend It

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own life events.  
> Also, this is my first attempt at smut, so please forgive me if its weird or wrong or whatever.  
> And I was going to give Clint his own piece in here, but I couldn't figure out how to work it properly.
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: Characters depicted are owned by Marvel studios. I own none of them. No offense is intended by basing the character of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston off of a real person. This is a work of fiction and meant for entertainment purposes only.**

He didn’t want to go to the wedding.

He really thought of cancelling, but Thor, well, Thor had insisted, enough so that he was delivered the invitation by hand.

He didn’t want to go, but he had to.

It wasn’t because he didn’t like weddings.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see Thor and Jane marry a second time – the first time having taken place on Asgard.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see Thor’s friends and by extension, his own.

It was because… well, anyway, he didn’t want to go.

And he had been ready not to in fact, wearing an old robe and slippers that were both riddled with holes, carrying around a cup of tea and knowing he looked a little homeless and lost in his ratty clothes with his unkempt hair and few day old stubble.

But he really did _not_ want to go.

And then Sif showed up, a frown on her face, looking striking in a stunning array of silks, designed with the patterns of her armor – which Tom could see she hadn’t given up entirely on wearing, her vambraces and chest plate still in place, though so elegantly crafted they were unable to detract from the flowing silk garments she wore.

“Get dressed, Thomas, it starts soon.” She commanded, because Sif never said anything that didn’t sound like a command.

Tom shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

“Too busy?” She asked incredulously, one eyebrow raising in doubt as she took in his attire.

He shuffled his feet, embarrassed at being so obviously caught. “Well, if you must know –”

“Thomas, I understand, but please get dressed, Thor demanded you be there.” She sighed, taking the cup from his stiff fingers.

It took a moment for her strength to shatter the handle which caused the cup to fall and break on the coffee table, tea spilling everywhere.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I know not what happened.” She apologized, her frown deepening as she opened her hand and small fragments of ceramic fell to click against the table and join the tea dripping off the edge and onto the floor, getting closer and closer to her silk skirts.

Tom, for his part, was far too used to a certain other god breaking things by accident that he hardly acknowledged it.

“It’s alright, I’ll clean it.” Tom sighed, walking past her to get a rag from the kitchen, but she stopped him by grabbing his hand.

“No, I’ll clean it, get dressed.” She ordered, her eyebrows raised, as if just begging him to defy her again.

With a deep sigh he acquiesced.

“Towels are in the top left drawer by the sink,” he pointed to the kitchen as he turned away from her and disappeared down the hallway. “Thank you.” He shouted in response to her indignant huff.

He closed the door behind himself and opened the closet, pulling out the suit Thor had specifically picked out for him, setting it on the bed and staring at it.

He dropped the robe and stripped from his clothes as he continued to stare at it.

He unzipped the clear bag and sighed, closing his eyes.

Jesus, he really didn’t want to go.

___________________________

They were to get married on the top of Stark tower, a ‘traditional Midgardian wedding’ it had said in the invitation and Tom had laughed a little as he debated on how you best reply with a no.

It had obviously not worked.

Tony Stark, who Tom had met several times, had constructed a device that made it look as though the top of the tower was empty while at the same time shielding them from the storm that Thor was surely going to bring.

They appeared on the landing pad at the top of Stark tower where Tony removed himself from the suit.

Sif helped him stay upright when he hunched over and coughed; though he’d traveled through the Bifröst a number of times he had never been able to get used to the landing.

“Good, I’m good, thank you.” He coughed and braced one hand on his knee, giving her a shaking thumbs-up.

She patted his back once and then helped him straighten. “You’re sure, Thomas? You look rather pale.”

“Yeah, I’m good, thank you,” he smiled reassuringly and offered his arm to her, coughing once more before he asked. “Shall we?”

She took his hand instead, which confused him somewhat, but he returned her small reassuring smile with a shaky one of his own as they walked down the small pathway, his nerves increasing with every step.

“He may not be here.” She spoke softly, startling him out of his reverie.

He gave her a tight smile. “His brother is getting married, why wouldn’t he be?”

She shrugged, almost dismissively. “He usually has other less important things to attend to on days when he has rather important things to partake in.”

Tom smiled wistfully and opened the glass door for her, the noise of the small gathering washing over them as they entered. “Yes, he liked to do that to me often as well.”

She shot him a look of pity. “You mustn’t let the trickster rule your life, Thomas.”

Tom shrugged indifferently when Pepper spotted them and began to walk over and Tom could already tell she was the obvious host of the party despite it being Thor’s wedding or Tony’s house. “Oh trust me, my dear goddess, I never let him, he just did.”

She gave him a look that he knew was full of sympathy even if he could only see it from the corner of his eye, but before she could say anything about it Pepper had reached them, an amiable smile on her face as she greeted them and began explaining what else they had to do before the ceremony started.

Tom was glad for the small distraction.

___________________________

Loki was three meters away from him.

And he hadn’t acknowledged Tom at all.

Sif held his hand tightly the entire time, her fingers squeezing his to the point they almost turned purple and though it hurt, he was glad to squeeze back, even if it did little to stop the pain he felt and only stopped the shaking of his fingers.

He knew he shouldn’t have come.

He knew it as Thor stood at the end of the aisle and the thunderstorm started around them.

He knew it as Jane walked up the aisle, dressed in flowing white and looking spectacular, the weather intensifying and making her look ethereal as the gown practically glowed.

He knew it as Thor and Jane exchanged rings, the clouds a deafening, spectacular backdrop.

He knew it as they walked down the aisle and it began to pour, hitting the force field so they were all kept dry.

He knew it as Sif gave his hand a quick pulsing squeeze when Loki walked past them, arm in arm with Darcy as they followed the 'newly' married couple down the makeshift staircase that Loki had erected to get them from the roof and back down to the penthouse.

Tom led Sif back down to the party and reassured her he was fine before he left her with Hogun and Fandral.

He went in search of a drink and though he didn’t want to get hammered, he needed something to calm his nerves.

And while he didn’t _intend_ to get drunk, well, barely half a glass of mead had him buzzed.

He was leaning against the bar, watching the small gathering with his half empty glass when Tony walked up to him.

“Glad you could make it, though I’m sure it doesn’t compare to the ceremony they had on Asgard.” He said with one of his smiles, those smiles that Tom had seen on Robert’s face often enough.

Tom offered his own smile. “No, but one can’t really contend with the Realm Eternal can they?” When Tony gave a bemused smile Tom shrugged. “Besides, Thor insisted I be here for this one as well.”

Tony nodded and leaned back against the counter next to him, usual glass of scotch missing, replaced oddly with a glass of mead as well. “Yeah, heard that you didn’t want to come though,” Tom raised an eyebrow in question and Tony shrugged. “Oh, just something I heard from a little, Asgardian birdy.”

Tom nodded and drank more of the mead, making a face when he swallowed too much; which caused Tony to laugh. “Too strong?”

“Yes, I had some on Asgard and it tasted much the same, I was hoping it might taste different here and though I can see how it has the potential to taste excellent it mostly tastes vile, as if someone dropped an entire bottle of vodka in it.” Tom answered, eyes squinted as he coughed.

Tony chuckled and slapped his back a few times. “Maybe someone did.”

Tom laughed as well, straightening and looking up. “Well I can only say that it was… an… absolutely…”

He trailed off when he caught sight of Loki, all relaxed elegance now with his shirtsleeves rolled up, his jacket missing, though he still wore the green tie as he weaved in and out of the guests, a genial smile on his face even as Tom watched him change someone’s wine to something else entirely.

Tom turned away to face Tony fully and cleared his throat, gripping his glass tightly, his eyes closed.

“You alright, Thomas?” Tony asked

Tom offered a small smile and nodded. “Yes, quite alright, just, the mead seems to be kicking in.”

“You sure?” He asked, more concerned as he laid a hand on Tom’s wrist.

Tom nodded again and swallowed nervously as he turned back to face the crowd, the god seemingly lost in it for now. “Yes, perfectly.”

Tony watched him for another moment before he nodded. “Alright,” Tom looked down at his hand when he felt him squeeze once, the hand retracting quickly after that. Tony cleared his throat. “Anyway, what were you going to say?”

Tom raised his eyebrows at the deflection until he remembered what Tony was asking about. He couldn’t help but remember as a thoughtful little smile made its way onto his face and he looked down at his mead. “Nothing, simply what an absolutely awful idea this was.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something, another frown on his face but Tom saw a figure of black and green coming towards them up the stairs and he turned away again hurriedly, effectively cutting Tony off. “I have to go, ah, to the restroom, could you point me?”

“Down, through the hallway, first on the left.” He answered, pointing him in the right direction.

“Thank you.” He whispered, grabbing his glass and making to rush past Tony.

As he walked away he vaguely heard a voice behind him that made his stomach tighten and heart beat too fast. “Stark, where is the sustenance?”

Tony gave a snort of laughter and Tom took his opportunity to walk away unnoticed, his back to Loki, feeling smaller and smaller as he walked further away.

When he exited the bathroom ten minutes later – after downing the rest of his drink and splashing his face with cold water – he wandered the edge of the party to the small office area in the corner, staring out the window at the storm that continued to rage.

Tom turned from the window a few minutes later when he heard a chair scrape the floor to find Bruce sitting there, watching the people milling about with no little trepidation.

“Don’t like large gatherings?” Tom asked, genuinely curious, noticing how relaxed the man looked physically – despite his nervous posture – with his trademark glasses missing; Tom hadn’t seen him without them since he’d met him.

Bruce smiled up at him. “I do, but ah, the other guy doesn’t so I tend to avoid them.”

Tom nodded in understanding and tapped the side of his glass. “Yes, I can see why you would.”

“You?” he asked with a smile. “Tony told me you didn’t want to come.”

Tom looked down at his empty drink and shrugged. “Yes, but Thor wants me here and I like a good gathering of friends.”

Bruce nodded and surveyed the crowd. “Have you talked to him yet?”

Tom caught sight of Loki again, handing a flute of champagne to Pepper, laughing quietly at something she’d said. He pursed his lips together and looked away from the throng of people “No, but I don’t really want to talk to him.”

Bruce gave a vague sound of agreement. “Neither do I.”

Tom laughed genuinely at that. “Oh, I can see why.”

Bruce offered him a smile and took a sip of his drink. “Yeah, though _I_ don’t mind him so much, the other guy still does, just another thing I tend to avoid for him.”

Tom nodded and turned back to the party once he felt a bit calmer. “Yes, smart.”

“You miss him?” Bruce asked after a few quiet moments.

Tom looked down at him in surprise. “Yes, more than I can say, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

Bruce stood and nodded. “Do you think it would change his mind?”

Tom shook his head. “No, nothing changes his mind once he knows what he wants.”

“Still,” he answered, leading Tom through the edge of the crowd to where the drinks were, Volstagg standing there and surveying his options. “Seems a shame to be miserable when you don’t have to be.”

Tom shrugged when they stopped next to the table, debating on whether or not he should get more for himself as well. “But he isn’t, that’s what matters.”

“Noble.” Volstagg snorted and Tom smiled softly.

“Not noble, accepting.” Tom answered despondently, reaching to fill his glass with more of the mead and wondering who else knew.

__________________

Thor talked to him next; the god of thunder clapped him on the back, shook his hand and generally abused him with enormous amounts of physical affection.

“You came!” He shouted, the mead making him much louder as he wrung Tom’s hand within an inch of it's life.

Tom nodded and laughed at Thor’s enthusiasm. “Yes, I said I would.”

Thor smiled and took a deep drink of the mead in his other hand, wiping his beard afterwards. “I was afraid you might not, given certain circumstances.”

Tom offered him a tight smile, downing two-thirds of his own drink before he answered. “Yes well, can’t avoid him forever.”

Thor gave him an understanding smile. “Have you been avoiding him?”

Tom raised his eyebrows and looked away from that pitying gaze. “No, yes, kind of, not really, I don’t know,” Tom shrugged and took another large gulp of his drink; it was getting easier to drink it as he drank more, _go figure_ . “Asgard and my Midgard don’t really run in the same circles, so I guess I haven’t been avoiding him.”

Thor looked at him in confusion. “Asgard and Midgard don’t run in circles, Thomas.”

Tom blinked up at him a few times and then he burst out laughing, head tossed back and tongue between his teeth as he did so, holding onto the back of the couch that they were standing next to.

“Oh my goodness, Thor, I know they don’t run in circles, it was a simple figure of speech.” He chuckled, patting Thor’s arm sympathetically.

Thor’s eyes brightened at that. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of that one before, Thomas, I will have to ask Jane about this.”

Tom nodded and took his hand once more. “Oh and congratulations, before I forget, the ceremony was just as beautiful as the one in Asgard.”

Thor shook his hand vigorously again. “Thank you, Thomas, that means a great deal to me.”

Tom beamed at that, whether it was the sincerity in Thor’s voice or the mead, he didn’t know. “Thank you,” they both turned at the sound of raucous laughter, Tom seeing Loki clap his hands at some joke Clint had told them all; his easy smile fell as he turned away. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more jovial for you, though, it’s a very happy day for you.”

Thor slapped him on the back again and Tom stumbled forward, causing Thor to reach forward and right him, chuckling. “It is quite alright, Thomas,” he stepped back and clapped Tom on the shoulder, squeezing once before he spoke again, his voice softening and turning sympathetic. “I sincerely hope all goes well with you and my brother sees what a mistake he has made.”

Tom laughed it off though the comment hurt. “Oh, I doubt it’s much of a mistake, I’m mortal after all, beneath him.”

A strange look came over Thor’s face then, almost regretful in a way, but it was gone a moment later, replaced with his usual smile.

He clapped Tom on the shoulder once more and walked away to find Jane, no doubt wondering about this new figure of speech he had just learned.

Tom sighed and turned back to the gorgeous thunderstorm outside.

He shouldn’t have come.

___________________

He wandered after that.

He ended up in what he could only assume to be Natasha’s rooms; they’d never met, the one Avenger that was always on some sort of mission the few times he had visited.

He stepped out quickly, not wanting to invade her privacy until something caught his eye from across the room.

He walked through the room quickly and ended up on a balcony, surveying the entirety of New York, very much the same but so different from his own.

He meant to leave but ended up sitting down on the small loveseat that was there, protected completely from the storm as it continued to rage.

He didn’t know Natasha was there until he heard her clear her throat from behind him and he turned to see her, looking striking in her red silk dress, spiky, killer stilettos making her legs look long and shapely in the tapered hem of the dress.

“Sorry, I was just, sorry.” Tom murmured, making to leave and swaying a bit as he stood, grabbing the railing to stabilize himself.

“Did you drink the mead?” He heard from behind him.

He turned and squinted at her, nodding slowly. “Yeah, what a mistake that, never again, but that's also what I said the first time.”

She cocked her head to the side then, stepping forward, her heels clicking against the wood floor until she was outside as well. “You’re Thomas Hiddleston, aren’t you?”

“And you’re Natasha Romanov.” Tom bit out, knowing it came out harsher than he intended, but she didn’t say anything, simply raised a skeptical eyebrow and he nodded, rubbing his temple. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me, though it doesn’t matter I suppose, not here.”

“Why’s that?” She asked, seeming to be genuinely curious as she shut the door behind herself.

Tom made a vague motion with his hand, falling back down onto the bench.

“Mortal, doesn’t matter, just a small petty thing.” He mumbled, taking another sip of mead at that.

“Did Loki tell you that?” She asked, sitting down next to him.

He blinked up at her from his slouched position. “Does everybody know?”

She shrugged. “He and Thor fought for two weeks straight, there was always something broken and Stark wasn’t fast enough to fix one thing before another two were broken. He finally told them if they couldn’t be here without breaking something they were never going to be welcome here again; Loki left after that, spitting something about midgardians and their foolish ways.”

Tom snorted out a laugh and finished off his drink, burping rather inelegantly. “Sounds like him.”

She made an indistinct noise in agreement at that. “You know, Thomas, you don’t seem the type to avoid something like this, from what I’ve heard I would have thought you would face this head-on.”

Tom set his glass on the bench and pushed himself up straighter, wondering vaguely if everyone here was going to use his full name tonight. “Well, meeting a god like Loki head-on usually makes for immense property damage and a lot of words one wishes to never have uttered.”

The door opened behind them and Clint stepped out, eyebrows raised when he took in the sight before him.

“Oh, I thought you were inside, Tasha.” Clint said, looking down at her in confusion.

She shrugged, though the action was tense. “Wanted some fresh air.”

He looked back into the room. “Yeah, but I was just in there and you –” he stopped speaking when Natasha stood up quickly and faced him.

Tom was too far gone to notice their exchange but it had Clint laughing and saying. “Oh, okay, sorry, never mind.”

Tom picked up his cup and stood, wobbling on his legs as he did so.

“I uh, think I’m going to go inside now.” He murmured, walking past them.

Natasha grabbed his hand before he was out of her reach. “No, stay.”

Tom shook his head and gave her a friendly smile. “No, I’ll leave you to it, sorry for intruding, it was nice meeting you.”

He tugged his hand free and walked away as he heard her say, just before he shut the door behind him. “You almost ruined everything, you little –”

But he closed the door before he could hear anymore.

He walked through the dwindling party, the hour late, causing most of the guests to have left already.

He saw a few couples dancing and he walked past, ignoring the fact that Loki was dancing with a very drunk Tony, both of them having an obviously good time.

He stumbled outside and leaned against the glass railing, staring out at the dark city.

Darcy wandered out a few minutes later and sidled up next to him.

“Don’t be a downer, Thomas, enjoy the party.” She chastised him, bumping their shoulders together, or rather her shoulder against his arm.

Tom smiled down at her. “I am enjoying the party.”

She rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who has had three glasses of mead and has yet to dance once.”

Tom smiled as he took a sip of mead, simply for show, pulling the glass away when she shook her head, a small smile lighting up her face. “I don’t feel like dancing.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You danced after one glass when they got married in Asgard.”

Tom took a deep breath. “Those were different circumstances.”

She bumped him again. “Why, because of Loki?”

“Yes.” He answered simply; he could be honest with Darcy, she was there, she knew.

“He really gave it to ya, hunh?” She asked quietly.

Tom laughed just as quietly, broken and cheerless. “Yes, he did.”

She took a sip of her own drink and hummed in thought. “If it helps, he’s fucking miserable.”

Tom laughed loudly at that, this time it was bitter and sardonic. “Oh, I highly doubt he’s miserable.”

She shrugged. “Believe what you want, but I’ve never seen anyone eat so much chocolate, nearly cleaned me out when I let him stay with me.”

Tom swallowed thickly. “Yes, he can pack it away when he wants to.”

“Still,” she murmured, reaching for his free hand and slipping their fingers together, a gesture so easy and familiar after Asgard. “He shouldn’t have to, you shouldn’t either.”

Tom shrugged. “He made it clear what he wanted from me; which is absolutely nothing.”

She snorted and leaned against him. “We all knew what could happen if we were in Asgard too long, why you got sick should not have come as a shock to him.”

“It wasn’t why, it was that I did, I shouldn’t have, I should have been stronger and he realized exactly why we aren’t meant to be together.” Tom murmured unhappily.

Darcy sighed and squeezed his fingers. “You love each other, that should be enough right?”

“Not for him.” Tom answered.

She pulled back and looked up at him. “Look, I’m not really excellent with all this feelings crap, but I know when two people need to be together,” she looked pointedly at the glass windows behind them and Tom turned and followed her gaze to where Thor and Jane danced, Tony and Pepper just to their left, Clint and Natasha just past them. “People need their other halves, you and Loki are each other’s halves, whatever is in his head saying otherwise is stupid; you need to tell him that.”

Tom looked away from the dancing couples and back out to the darkness of New York.

“It doesn’t matter what I tell him, I got sick and he realized that I’m weak, mortal and not right for him.” He shrugged, finishing off his drink.

Darcy snorted again. “I got sick too, so did Jane, do you see Thor not marrying her again? No, because they love each other, so go find Loki and tell him to man up or I’ll kick his ass.”

Tom laughed, genuine now. “I’d like to see that.”

Darcy smiled and leaned back against him. “Well, maybe not kick his ass, but I definitely won’t let him have anymore of my chocolate.”

Tom smiled, but still didn’t let himself hope.

___________________________________

Pepper had taken his cup away at some point and given him a bottle of water.

He was sitting on the roof with his feet dangling off the edge when Steve found him.

Steve dragged him back to the chairs so they could sit comfortably as they watched New York light up beneath them.

“Have you spoken to him?” Steve asked.

Tom threw his head back and stared up at the stars. “No, I haven’t and I don’t wish to.”

“Why?” Nothing but sincerity and patience evident in his voice.

Tom groaned. “Because he doesn’t love me and I know it now, what more is there to talk about?”

Steve shrugged and tossed his own bottle of water between his hands. “I’d think you would want to make this easier on the both of you.”

Tom looked over at him and sighed. “I’m making it easy on him by not being there, is it really so horrible if I’m miserable?”

Steve patted his hand awkwardly, fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “You don’t think you deserve to be happy?”

Tom waved his hand dismissively at that. “I’m happy, don’t I look happy?”

Steve smiled lightly. “No, you don’t.”

Tom shrugged and sat up more in his chair. “Well maybe because I’m not, but I was happy once and that doesn’t matter anymore now so why think of it.”

Steve shrugged and sighed. “Why don’t you just talk to him, maybe he’s changed his mind?”

Tom stood then, too agitated to sit any longer. “Why does everyone think I should talk to him? He doesn’t want to talk to me, didn’t even look at me earlier,” he kicked a rock from the roof and sent it careening down over the edge. “He doesn’t miss me, doesn’t want me, what’s the point of talking about it if it won’t go anywhere, he made his point very clear a few months ago when he decided I was too weak to be with him, too small, too infinitesimal on the grand scale of things,” he kicked a chair this time. “He’s a god, what do I have in comparison to a god?”

Steve didn’t answer and so Tom turned back to him, his anger bleeding out at the shocked look on Steve’s face.

“I have nothing, nothing to offer him and he knows that, that’s why I can’t talk to him, because I am still and will always be insignificant in comparison to him.” Tom shrugged, grabbing his coat from the chair he’d thrown it in earlier.

“I’m sorry, Thomas, I didn’t know that, you know, I thought, I’m sorry.” Steve rushed out as Tom walked away from him.

Tom stopped and tensed, closing his eyes and sighing, turning back to Steve who had risen from his chair.

Tom gave a small apologetic smile as his eyes watered. “It’s alright, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten cross with you. It’s just…” he gripped his jacket tightly and looked up at him. “I miss him, everyday and he doesn’t want me, how can I want someone that doesn’t want me?” He gave a small choked sob at that and wiped at his eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just, we were happy, I thought we were happy, for three years we were happy and then, out of nowhere, he doesn’t want me, doesn’t need me,” he shrugged and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Three years I gave him, and I don’t even mean the films, but I mean us, _myself_ , I gave him three years of my life and he doesn’t even look at me anymore.”

He wiped at his eyes again. “I love him, but he doesn’t love me and it hurts,” he gripped the jacket angrily. “It _hurts_ and I don’t know how to make it not hurt, how to make the hurt go away and he _doesn’t care_. And now I can’t help but think, did he ever, was I just his thing, his toy to play with when he was bored?” He choked back another sob and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know anymore, because I know him and what he’s like, but because I know him, I wonder, do I know him or just what he allowed me to know?

“God, I think, I think sometimes he never told me what was important, what he really feared and wanted and felt and I think, I told him everything about myself, everything that I thought was important, everything I feared, felt and wanted and he never said he didn’t want me, so why now, why all of a sudden did he decide I wasn’t worth his time?” Tom shrugged and forced his tears down, looking away from Steve’s sympathetic gaze.

“Was it because I got sick, because Asgard is made for immortality and Midgard isn’t, because _I’m_ not made for immortality? Was it because he realized that, realized how little, how easily broken I can be and he is incapable of being?” Tom shrugged, a bitter laugh escaping. “I’ve gotten sick before, gotten horribly, wretchedly sick before and he’s never cared, so why now, why is this time important? I wish I could change it but I can’t, I’m capable of getting sick, of dying and it kills me to know that he doesn’t want me back and I have no power over that.

“I want him back badly, but I can never get him back and I know it, so why doesn’t that make the hurt go away, why doesn’t that change how I feel about him?” He looked back at him and slipped on his coat. “I’m sorry, I have to go, so sorry, it was very nice seeing you again.”

He turned and left then, knowing that everyone felt sorry for him and hating that.

Hating more that they had a reason to.

______________________________

They had a small farewell party.

The Warriors Three, Thor and Jane of course.

Tony, who was swaying and clinging to Pepper’s side, mouthing at her neck and making her roll her eyes and push him onto Steve, who was blushing as Tony’s attentions turned to him.

Natasha and Clint, both giving him sad smiles as they waved.

Bruce was standing off to the side with Darcy, ignoring her as she poked at him.

He held Sif’s hand as she called to the Bifröst.

And just before the abysmal suction hole that was the system of travel for the gods opened, Tom looked behind the small gathering.

And saw _another_ Sif walk around the corner into the living room

He blinked in disbelief and squeezed the hand in his harder than necessary as they were thrown from their world and into his own.

______________

He was agitated again.

Fidgety, nervous, as they walked in silence to his flat.

He knew he hadn’t seen Sif in the house, that was impossible; well, improbable most likely.

He cast her a sidelong glance when she squeezed his hand in hers.

How many times had they held hands that night?

“This is fine.” Tom murmured when they reached the entrance to his building.

She looked up at the brick and mortar. “Thor bade me see you home, you are not home yet, Thomas.”

Tom licked his lips nervously and turned, unlocking the door and holding it open for her, letting it fall shut quietly when she was through and she had taken his hand again.

_How many times?_

They used the lift silently, Sif looking around at the small room as though it would answer all of her questions.

Tom watched her as she _did_ answer all of his questions.

Tony’s mead.

Bruce’s glasses.

Thor saying it was a mistake.

Clint insisting Natasha had been inside.

Natasha telling Clint he almost ruined everything.

Darcy’s insistence.

Steve’s questions.

Tom rubbed his tired eyes.

The broken cup.

Sif holding his hand.

Sif squeezing his fingers

Sif walking around the corner.

Loki, nowhere to be found the entire night, save for small glimpses.

Everyone saying he could have changed his mind.

Everyone insisting he talk to the god.

Everyone using his full name.

Everyone touching or holding his hand.

Small, small things, but they spoke volumes to him.

The doors dinged and Tom stumbled from the compartment, barely holding himself up as he practically ran to his door.

“This is me, thank you.” Tom mumbled, opening his door faster than he thought possible.

Sif stopped him from slamming the door in her face with a fist to the wood, an amiable smile on her face, so identical to Loki’s Tom stopped breathing.

“May I come in?” She asked quietly and gods, it was his voice, almost his voice, so close but just so not.

Tom swallowed nervously and nodded, stumbling back and shutting the door quietly behind her.

He walked past her quickly, a few mumbled words about changing his clothes leaving his lips.

He made it just inside the hallway before she spoke.

“When did you figure it out?” And gods, it wasn’t his voice, but it may as well have been.

Tom swallowed nervously and closed his eyes tightly. “Just now,” he licked his dry lips when he heard the telltale sound of footsteps behind him. “Please, I-I need to change.”

But before he could move she grabbed his hand and twined their fingers together.

_How many times?_

He stayed motionless, eyes closed, breathing shallow until he felt it, the fingers changing slowly from warm, battle-worn skin to smooth, cold flesh, fingers long and tight in his own, tugging him so he turned, eyes brimming.

But he didn’t meet the brown eyes of Sif.

Just the green, soft and gentle green of Loki, dressed as he had been at the wedding, taller and much more beautiful than he had remembered.

His mind had not done him justice.

They stayed like that for what had to be an eternity, in the near darkness just inside his hallway, the only light coming from the living room lamp he had left on by accident; the only sound was of their shallow breaths, their thundering heartbeats.

Then Loki was pulling him forward into a crushing embrace, pulling him against him as he began to sob, burying his face into his shoulder and shaking with heartbreak.

“Shh, quiet little mortal, I’m here.” Loki whispered into his hair and Tom squeezed his jacket, gripped the fabric tightly in one hand as he hit him with the other.

He was angry, so, so angry that Loki was here, hiding from him for months, all night and now he was here, holding him like it was all okay.

“God, god I hate you so much.” Tom rasped into his neck, hitting him over and over again on the back, squeezing him and soaking the fabric of his jacket as he continued to cry.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Loki murmured, allowing Tom to hit him, release his frustration.

“You could’ve told me, but no, you had to fucking hide.” Tom sobbed, allowing Loki to lift his face from his neck so he could see his eyes.

“I know, but would you have talked to me, told me the truth?” Loki smiled, wincing now as Tom twisted his fingers into his hair

“Fucking bastard.” Tom choked out just before Loki took his mouth in a hard kiss.

Tom dug his fingers into his hair further and gripped his jacket with his free hand, kissing back for all he was worth, his tears making the kiss wet, but no less intoxicating.

“God, you don’t even know how much I hate you right now, so very much, god I want to hurt you, hurt you so much for making me hurt.” He rasped, pulling away and hitting him again, this time on his chest before he gripped his jacket firmly.

Loki laughed like the bastard he was and kissed Tom again. “I know, Thomas, I know.”

“No, you really fucking don’t.” Tom bit out, gripping his jacket harder before ripping it off a moment later.

Loki laughed again and pulled off Tom’s jacket as well, his shirt quick to follow. “Then tell me.”

“God, I don’t know how to even begin to describe it,” Tom spat, ripping Loki’s shirt off now, the buttons falling off and hitting the floor to plunk softly on the wood. “I want to physically cause you pain,” he tossed the tattered shirt on the floor, on top of his own, Loki now working on his belt as Tom sucked against his neck. “I feel like I could really kill you right now.”

“I know, I know, gods, what else?” Loki smiled into his skin, tugging Tom’s pants down.

“I feel like I could burst, like I have the ability to hurt you beyond repair.” Tom hissed, ripping Loki’s own slacks off, kicking his shoes off in the process. “I physically want to rip your fucking heart out from your chest,” he flung the god’s pants to the floor, watching as Loki tossed his own on top, pulling Tom into another crushing kiss, biting his bottom lip as he literally tore his boxers off of him. “And then I’d step on it, fucking crush it the way you did mine.”

“I know, gods, I know.” Loki breathed when Tom kissed him once more before pushing the god roughly against the wall and forcing him to turn and face it.

“After that I’d make you fucking, god I don’t know, I just want to hurt you until you know how I feel.” He ran his fingers angrily through Loki’s hair, digging in and twisting so Loki hissed in pain and he ran the palm of his free hand over his hip. “You still don’t wear anything underneath,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against Loki’s back, scratching his nails over the pale skin of his hip, watching as red bloomed in their wake and Loki hissed again. “Fucking tease.”

Loki laughed, a broken sound, fraught with his own pain and madness at the situation as Tom kissed his spine, his breathing harsh. “I know, gods, you really hate me don’t you?”

Tom dug nails into his hip, feeling strangely, delightedly detached as red appeared around them. “I really, really do,” he licked up the skin of Loki’s back until he reached his ear. “Better prepare yourself, darling, or this is going to hurt.”

Loki muttered a few well-chosen words quickly, feeling a slickness inside himself and then he moaned when not a moment later, Tom lined himself up and thrust in brutally hard, burying himself completely inside of Loki.

His breathing was ragged as he reached around and entwined their fingers together, gripping Loki's fingers painfully hard as he tried to regulate himself and not just fuck into the tight heat that surrounded him.

“Oh gods, Thomas, I missed you.” Loki managed to gasp out, eyes closed as he squeezed his fingers, breathing just as raggedly as Tom.

“Then why, why did you do this?” Tom gasped into the skin of his spine, breathing harshly as he felt the exquisite heat around him, making him want to hurt, hurt the way he had been, hurt to the same extent because it wasn’t _fair_.

It wasn’t fair that Loki got to do what he wanted and Tom was left to ponder the god’s moods, left to try and figure out what he did wrong.

“Because I thought it necessary.” Loki whispered quietly, the anguish obvious in his voice as he struggled to look at him over his shoulder.

Tom breathed deeply against his back before he croaked out in a broken sob, all anger seeming to have dissipated for the moment. “Why?”

Loki swallowed and tried to wiggle his hips and entice Tom to move, but he seemed to be bent on getting an answer first.

So Loki closed his eyes and sighed out, squeezing his fingers once. “I don’t know anymore.”

It seemed to wake Tom up from wherever he had drifted to because a moment later Loki was gasping as Tom bit his shoulder and pulled out slowly, so slowly Loki felt every inch slide slickly from his body.

“Gods, I hate you,” Tom mumbled as he started to move in earnest, pushing in slowly, pulling out just as slowly so Loki panted into the wall. “So much that I wonder,” Tom looked down to where they were joined. “If it means I love you,” he closed his eyes and reveled in the noises that Loki let escape. “Too much to really hate you.”

Loki laughed and thrust back against Tom, pulling him in so that he groaned. “You can hate me, Thomas, hate me and I’d love you even more for it.”

“Bastard.” Tom mumbled and thrust in almost viciously hard and Loki keened, fisting his hands tighter as Tom continued that rough pace, using him, just as Tom felt used.

Tom kept their hands up as he fucked into him, effectively preventing Loki from seeking his own pleasure, making the god beg and plead for release.

“No.” Tom muttered simply into his sweaty skin, thrusting harshly, stimulating his prostate on every thrust so that Loki was gasping, panting and meeting his thrusts, seeking the release Tom held just out of reach.

Loki arched a few moments later when Tom bit his shoulder again and he came with a high cry of Tom’s name, emptying himself on the wall and his chest, falling forward as Tom pressed once, twice, more into him, before he came too, burying himself as deep as possible, filling Loki until he felt he would overflow with it.

They fell against the wall, Loki in his lap, Tom pressed to his back, their fingers still laced together where Loki held them in his lap.

Once Tom got his breathing back he kissed Loki’s shoulder and laid his cheek against the sweat slick skin.

“I hate you.” He murmured with no real malice and Loki laughed quietly, muted against the wall.

“I know, Thomas, one of the things I loved about you from the very beginning was your inability to hate anything.” Loki whispered, sighing afterwards.

“Bastard.” Tom muttered on a sigh.

Loki’s laugh was muffled by the wall again.

________________________________

“I lied, you know.” Loki whispered some time later after he had cleaned them up and they had extricated themselves from their tangle of limbs and were now laying on the couch, far too tired to make it to the bed.

Tom shrugged from his position on Loki’s chest. “What does it matter if you lied, now anyway?”

Loki sighed and ran a hand through Tom’s hair. “Because you need to know, I never stopped wanting you or needing you.”

Tom ran a finger up Loki’s neck. “But…”

“But you got sick, and the thought, just the thought alone of losing you, not having you near me, scared me. It never hit me so hard as it did then, I could not stand that you would die one day, that you would cease to exist and so I took my fear out on you in ways you did not deserve, thinking maybe if I made you hate me, I could forget about you and you about me.” Loki admitted, still staring up at the ceiling.

“So what’s different now?” Tom inquired, reaching back to pull the blanket up more securely around himself, the cold starting to seep in.

Loki smiled, the smile that said mischief was afoot and he had caused it. “Oh, something only I could do.”

“Mmm, such as?” Tom asked, tracing his collarbone now.

Loki nudged Tom up until he was sitting and wrapped in the blanket so the god could stand and walk marvelously naked to their tattered clothes.

He picked up his pants and reached a hand into his pocket, his entire arm disappearing as he did so.

Tom watched him root around for a minute before his eyes lit up and he smiled, extricating himself from the pocket and emerging with a single golden apple.

Tom frowned at it as he recognized what it was, watched as Loki sat down and pulled him close, placing the apple on his blanket covered lap.

“An apple from Iðunn.” Loki whispered, kissing Tom’s temple.

Tom touched it tentatively, feeling the heat that radiated off of it.

“An apple from Iðunn.” He repeated on a quiet laugh.

“For you, Thomas, to stay young and live longer and happier than you would have otherwise.” Loki explained, holding it up for him.

“With you.” Tom stated, the last part Loki having left off.

Loki licked his lips nervously. “With me, if that’s what you want.”

“So this is what’s different then, my options?” Tom inquired, staring and looking a little lost at the apple.

“Yes, I realized, when Thor told me of Jane eating one, that you could as well,” Loki admitted, offering Tom a trembling smile. “And though I felt incredibly dull for not thinking of it earlier, I also thought, if perhaps you _didn’t_ hate me, then this, this would change everything and I could have you forever,” Loki shrugged then. “Perhaps it is selfish, to make you do this, to keep you mine and steal you from your mortal life, but I never said I was selfless.”

Tom smiled and picked it up gently, felt the solid weight of it in his palm, not needing a second to think about it. “One question before I do this.”

Loki gave him a curt nod in response.

“Did you steal it?” Tom asked, watching Loki closely.

Loki pursed his lips. “I did, they would not give me one willingly, as I have no claim to any mortal as Thor does, so I disguised myself as one of your midgardian squirrels and took this one,” he tapped it once and smiled wistfully. “I do believe it is the very last of this year’s harvest.”

Tom shook his head and looked down at the apple in his hands. “Of course it is,” he looked back up at him with a small smile. “Gods, I hate you sometimes.”

Loki pulled his wrist down, pulling the apple away so he could lean forward and kiss him softly before pulling back to whisper. “You don’t hate me.”

Tom smiled and lifted his hand, the apple an inch away from his mouth. “No, I don’t.”

Loki laughed gently as Tom took his first bite of immortality.


End file.
